Missing Streams

Starting on the Right Foot - 15

The world floated before me, colours bleeding into each other from behind my drunken vision of heavy painkillers. Not that the brain had nerves to sense pain, but my scalp felt like I had been burnt alive. I was trying to remember why.

Oh yeah, they had to shave my head for the surgery. Access to my brain and whatnot. My memory was blurrier than my vision, and I wanted only to piece it together. I couldn't even remember if I had been knocked out for the surgery. Probably, knowing this place.

There was another thing I did remember. They had searched our lockers, and taken my medication. Said I needed a prescription from these guys if I wanted to take them. Fucking great. Just what I needed, my serotonin getting out of whack.

There were bigger fish to fry, and I tried to remember what the fuck had happened during the surgery. One thing did come to mind, and immediately pissed me off. They had shaved my entire head, leaving me bald. Even though the area of the surgery had been about two square inches.

Gotta love these guys.

I'd been able to avoid mockery in this place so far, except for that douche in my class, Xavier Masson. But without my hair, there were a few new reasons I'd be made fun of. But that was the least of my worries, and figured they would have done something to my hair soon enough. Shaving it off was better than some things they could've done.

The limbo of being awake on heavy painkillers started to fade, and I must have fallen asleep.

***

So, physical therapy? Where you're supposed to have a, you know, therapist, right? Not in this place. I just got a room in medical wing to try and make my leg work, which they assumed would be magical.

Thankfully Simon had come to watch me during his classes, since he needed experience keeping problem patients in control. Great on a resume, I know. But it meant I wasn't alone in a fruity room covered in blue walls, floors, and equipment. I couldn't figure out the purpose of that colour, but it was better than the bleached white I was too used to.

I still had a bandage covering my scalp, since that was easier than risking anything screwing up my stitches. It worked like a cone on a dog, preventing me from scratching at my stitches. It also stopped me from ripping them out or anything, which I guessed was a good thing.

I was using a walker to stay on my feet as I tried to walk, with Simon helping me where he could. Usually that just meant validating my efforts. It was hard to move my leg at all, since that part of my brain hadn't been used since - what, fifth grade? Either way, it had been a while. The best I could get was when I moved my thigh, the fake leg would move a bit as if I was a toddler learning to walk. I guessed I was.

But there was a problem with this procedure they didn't mention at any point, which I really wasn't fond of. Getting my brain to move a part of my body that didn't exist brought on a level of phantom limb pain I had never known. But I did my best to ignore it, willing it to go away even though I knew it wouldn't.

"Come on, try that again." Simon smiled, "You seem to be getting the hold of landing on your foot, at least."

I chuckled, "It's a start, I guess."

***

Come Monday, I had made some progress. Through the intense phantom limb shit going on, I could walk without aid. I wasn't very good at it, usually relying on James or Simon to help me catch my balance if I tripped, but I was on the road to functioning on my own.

I'll admit, it was amazing. I wasn't just walking with a prosthetic like I was used to, but actively walking. With time I'd be able to run and jump, which was a foreign concept to me. Of course I'd done it with a usual prosthetic, but this would be a new level of movement. Instead of working around my prosthetic, it was a functioning part of my leg. As much as it sucked, I tried to stay on the bright side of things.

Which was more than difficult without my medication, as my body went into physical withdrawal. But of course all these were attributed to the surgery and my new leg, and not a cold turkey lack of antidepressants. Good idea on their part, fucking up my body in as many ways as they could at once.

But James and Simon kept me on my toes, helping me keep on going.